


Anyone Can Whistle

by delighted



Series: Alaska Lodge AU [3]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Continuation, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Family Bonding, Gen, Intrigue, M/M, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-08 21:45:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16437401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delighted/pseuds/delighted
Summary: (The third part of my Alaska Lodge AU, but stands reasonably well on its own.)Steve visits Danny in Chicago. Things don't go quite as planned.... But maybe that's just exactly how it should be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is part three of my Alaska Lodge AU, in which Steve didn’t stay in Hawaii after his dad died... and Danny’s a cop in Chicago (with Lou, of course), and meets Steve at a Lodge in Alaska... and while certainly it will make a whole lot more sense if you’ve read parts one and two, I do think that this story probably stands reasonably well on its own two feet.... 
> 
> I adore how much you guys love my OCs. It makes me giddy, and has been a huge part of why I keep going with this AU. I truly hope you enjoy this one. It’s a bit of a departure for me, so we shall see how it goes.... 
> 
> Great big soft and cuddly hugs to NatalieRyan for eagerly and enthusiastically reading drafts—and assuring me that I’m not insane for what I’ve done. (And kisses and hot chocolate for scolding me when I threatened to throw the towel in when chapter four slammed me into a wall.)
> 
> The title comes from the Stephen Sondheim song of the same name. My favorite version, and the one mentioned in the story, comes from the Sondheim jazz album, _Color and Light_.
> 
> Because this story is set mostly in Chicago and surrounding wonderful places, I highly recommend a soundtrack of jazz to go along with it. There are two pieces mentioned later on, in a chapter note and in the story itself, and they are two of my all time favorites and you should totally listen to them if you can. But I’m gonna toss one more at you before we begin, because I’m in a sentimental mood, and this song and Chicago absolutely go hand-in-hand in my heart. If you have ten minutes to spare and wanna fall in love with a fabulous tune, check out “Night Hawk” by Coleman Hawkins. That should really set the tone for this story. And it goes beautifully with the classic painting by Edward Hopper, _Nighthawks_ , which is housed, of course, at the sublime Art Institute of Chicago. 
> 
> Okay, that’s it for the art and music history lesson, kids.... Enjoy the story! It is complete, four chapters, 11k total... I’ll post one chapter each day.

It hasn’t exactly been a good week. Rachel’s worked out something of the vague notion that Danny’s new boyfriend’s boss somehow had something to do with her fabulous new job in Hawaii, and while she isn’t exactly complaining, she is for some reason determined to make Danny suffer because of it. Which is just perfectly their relationship right there, isn’t it.

Nothing horrible, just that she’s withdrawn her offer of including the kids’ stuff from Danny’s house with their stuff at hers, so that Danny doesn’t have to pay an arm and a leg to have their stuff shipped out to the island.

So he’s sitting, sticky and gross in the delightful Chicago summer heat, drinking a flat, warm beer that tastes like water, and looking around at all his worldly possessions and thinking peevishly of just fucking selling all of it.

And it isn’t an awful feeling. He isn’t really sure that some of his attachments to these ratty old things aren’t unhealthy. Besides, faded Jersey hand-me-downs probably don’t go so well with the whole fresh-start-in-tropical-paradise vibe. But it’s his stuff, and it’s stuff he’s always had around, for as long as he can remember, and something just nags at him, that makes it hard to feel okay about letting it go.

Of course, something else  _hard_  nags at him as well. 

He’s only been home for a couple of weeks, and it had felt like literal ages before that since he’d even  _had_  sex. So why is it making him completely insane and unable to function, all of a sudden, to go two weeks without? It’s like being a horny teenager again—which really feels more than a little like what it had been, that one incredible week with Steve.

And maybe that’s part of what’s nagging at him. One week. Half of that just some version of courting. And after that, he’s seriously contemplating throwing away his entire life to follow this man, this virtual stranger—and a stranger with the oddest assortment of friends Danny’s ever met—to the ends of the earth? Well, Hawaii sure feels like the ends of the earth. He’s always had this feeling that the further away from Jersey he gets the less like himself he becomes.

It’s that thought that makes him smile, though. Because it hadn’t been true in Alaska. In Alaska he’d  _found_  himself again, after far too long feeling like he was quite simply  _missing_. And that had been down, one hundred percent, to the man who’s turned his whole life upside down.

So, yeah. Maybe he’ll ask his mom to store some of this old Jersey tat for him. But a fresh start isn’t sounding as bad as it was an hour ago. Neither is a shower.

Which of course is when the doorbell rings.

Danny almost doesn’t answer it. No one he knows would come by without calling, and he’s not exactly in the mood to talk to sales people or politicians. And, he supposes there are other possibilities, other people who it might be, at his door in this ridiculous heat. It’s the wrong time of year for Girl Scouts, though. 

So he sighs and gets up, because for some reason—and maybe it’s just the timing of it, that he’d reached some level of resolve, talking himself through (for the fourteenth time) his abject terror over what he’s doing with his life—but for some reason he just knows he has to answer the door.

Obviously he’s glad he does.

“Hey, buddy. Wow, you look like shit.”

The heat must be getting to him. That or the hormones. Because just like Steve was the warmth that burned the darkness out of him in Alaska, he looks exactly like the cool wash of refreshment Danny so badly needs now. So it must be an illusion, right? 

Ohh, but illusions don’t kiss like this, like they haven’t been able to breathe until now, like they’ve been starving, and not sleeping, and not thinking, and suddenly as their lips meet everything returns, all at once, and it’s almost like drowning.

“You’re not really here. I’m freaking out worse than I’d thought.”

That smirk, though. Danny’d know it anywhere, he knows he would. 

It feels like home.

“I’m really here. No need to freak out. Though maybe you should take a shower. And eat something—Jesus Danny, you’re shaking. Come here, hey... it’s okay. You ahh, you gonna let me in?”

Danny doesn’t seem to be able to move, but fortunately, Steve’s not the type to let the lack of an invitation bother him, so he sweeps Danny inside, tossing his bag in the foyer, and ushers Danny into the kitchen, where he pours them both tall icy glasses of water.

“Are the kids...?”

“At Lou’s,” Danny manages. They’ve been there a lot recently. Danny’s pretty sure he’s going to owe Lou more than he could ever repay.

“Got something stronger than water, Danny?” Steve asks, as he starts going through the cupboards till he finds the mostly empty bottle of whiskey and about two thirds of a bottle of gin that has to be nearly as old as the house. Not that it matters. Unfortunately there’s no tonic water, because suddenly a gin and tonic, despite the obvious Rachel-related memories, sounds like heaven. 

Surprisingly, shots of straight gin over ice is refreshing as well as bracing, and it’s got enough of that medicinal twang that it zips through Danny’s blood and it must break through some haze of something, because now he can see clearly. Wonderfully, fantastically clearly.

Shit. Steve’s in his fucking kitchen.

He laughs. “Oh my god, you’re really here.”

Steve grins. “There ya go. Knew you were in there somewhere.” And he kisses Danny again. And it’s cooler—by which he means hotter. Oh god it’s so hot. It makes Danny’s toes curl, it makes steam come out of his ears, and it makes him, of course, instantly and painfully hard.

“Holy shit I’ve missed you.”

And this, yeah,  _this_  is why he’s gonna throw it all away and move to some pineapple infested island.

And yeah, it’s gonna be worth it.

By his third orgasm he no longer remembers why he was upset about dusty old furniture or having to pay insane amounts of money to ship stuffed animals and clothes that will be outgrown within months to a tiny speck in the sea. He no longer remembers, and he doesn’t care. Because this is what he needs in his life, this is  _who_  he wants in his life, in his bed, and frankly the rest of it can go to hell.

However, by then, and it’s hours later, it must be, but by then—and yes, Steve made him shower first—he’s starving. And there’s only one place he’s going to let Steve have his first Chicago meal. So he gets them both showered again and dressed, and he’s thrilled to see that Steve owns clothes that are not torn jeans and flannel shirts, and fuck, they almost don’t make it out the door, because Danny never bothered much about Steve’s clothes, he’d be hot in anything. But the man looks damn amazing in tailored slacks that highlight his fantastic ass and a crisp dress shirt in a soft blue that reminds Danny of the sky above the lake off the dock at the Lodge. Steve, for his part, seems just as taken with the city version of Danny, just as aware of the tailoring of his pants, and seems to think that his hand belongs on Danny’s ass. Not that Danny’s complaining.

But it does change his mind about their plans. He’d half wanted to stop and get the kids, because if they find out Danny’s gone to Gino’s without them, there will be hell to pay. But he decides he’ll brave it, because dammit, he hasn’t been on a proper date in longer than he can count, and if part of him reminds himself that he’s yet to check out Chicago’s supposedly vibrant gay scene and this might be his only chance, well. You only live—yeah, you know how that goes. Hashtag  _seize the day_ , right?

Steve’s utterly taken with Gino’s, but then who isn’t? They settle on a simple sausage deep dish, and Steve picks a bottle of red to go with it, and Danny grins and asks if Roberto gave him pointers.

“I might have picked up a thing or two from him. Didn’t think to ask for Chicago specific tips, though I guess I should have.”

They’re holding hands across the table, and it makes Danny giddy. He’s got a silver sharpie in his pocket, and he’s thinking about what he’s going to write on the wall. Wants it to be special, needs it to be meaningful, because it’s possible he won’t come back here, and that means something to him. And he laughs to himself, because if he could go back and tell himself that—eight years ago—that he’d be feeling a pang of loss, over Chicago pizza.... Well, freshly and more than a little reluctantly transplanted Danny would probably punch himself in the face.

But then, if you’d told eight-years-ago-Danny that he’d be moving to Hawaii with the hottest man he’s ever had sex with, he probably would have laughed so hard he’d have choked.

Which isn’t nearly as much fun as the almost-choking that happened earlier....

Steve likes the pizza, likes it a lot. And Danny contemplates a trip later in... however long Steve’s going to be here, to be honest Danny hasn’t thought to ask... to Giordano’s so he can participate in the eternal debate. Danny likes both, depending on his mood, but he’ll admit a slight preference for the heartier cornmeal-enhanced crust at Gino’s. And, well, the whole writing on the wall thing is kinda fun to show off to visitors to the city.

When they’re done eating, Steve reaches across the table and takes the silver sharpie out of Danny’s pocket. He finds a surprising bare patch of wall right at the lower edge of the booth at his side, and carefully writes out a string of Hawaiian words.

_He ho’omaka hou ‘ana._

Danny tilts his head and looks over at him. Steve’s grinning, so contentedly. “What’s that mean?” Danny asks softly, as Steve hands him the pen back.

“ _A new beginning_ ,” Steve replies, and suddenly Danny can’t wait for it to start.

They talk about checking out a gay bar next, more out of curiosity than anything. And because Steve admits he’s not gone since the repeal of DADT, Danny decides it’s a must. They don’t linger for long, though, mostly because they feel slightly old and not nearly hip enough, but they enjoy making out in a corner booth for a bit. And then, having caught the clubbing vibe, Danny decides Steve needs at least a bit of a Jazz Club Experience.

Danny used to be really up on the jazz clubs. Lou took him all the time when they first became partners, and Danny’d really found it helped ease his transition from “city” meaning  _The_  City to “city” meaning Chi-town. But they’d at some point decided that smoking cigars and talking football in the leather chair, whiskey-neat, smoky atmosphere of the classic Chicago steakhouse was more their style. Especially after a game of golf (more Lou’s thing than Danny’s, but he tries to humor him, and always enjoys the celebration after, when Lou has a good game, or the commiseration when he doesn’t). They haven’t done that in ages, and Danny thinks they probably should have a last round (of steaks and drinks, not golf) before he heads off into the sunset. Although, Lou has already hinted that he plans on visiting—most likely in the depths of Chicago’s long and brutal winter, most likely to keep up his golf game.

The club Danny picks is one of the smaller ones, and it’s still early, so they have their pick of tables. He steers Steve away from the back, to avoid the temptation of ignoring the music in favor of the company, and they settle into a table near the front. It’s a mellow trio and a vocalist who reminds Danny of Lucy—tall and dark and intrinsically elegant, yet playful and knowing, like she can see things about you that you haven’t realized yet about yourself. And they stick mostly to standards, though there’s an adapted show tune in there Danny recognizes as Sondheim. He has an odd feeling jazz singer or Broadway star is totally a cover Lucy could pull off, and thinks to ask Steve later if maybe she has. The melodic, persuasive, calming tones of her voice certainly lend themselves to it, and her fluid posture and movement would be right at home leaning into the curve of a piano or traipsing across the footlights.

Musical tastes is one of many conversations they’ve yet to have, and Danny finds he can’t get a read on if Steve actually enjoys the music or not, but that might be partly his own eagerness to get home. By which he means  _back in bed_. Which isn’t to say he’s not enjoying the music. It’s one of those things he’s regretting not having done more—but then, he never imagined he’d be leaving Chicago. His mind starts to make lists of the things he wants to do one last time, or that he never did that he wants to do, before they leave the Windy City. And between the soothing tunes and the thoughts swirling in his head, he’s jolted out of his fog when Steve tries to hint maybe it’s time to head back. Which is probably because Steve’s way of doing that is to move his hand further and further up Danny’s thigh, and suddenly Danny remembers that sex is a thing very much in his life again. Really fantastic sex. And he decides (or part of his anatomy decides) that that’s enough jazz to last him a good long while, and  _yes please_ , let’s go home.

Home. With Steve. Yeah, this day is turning out to be a really fantastic day after all.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day starts out to be really fantastic as well, as Steve’s been in touch with Lou and arranged to borrow his friend’s boat out of the launch up on the north shore of the lake near the Northwestern campus, so he can take Danny and the kids out for a sail and a picnic. Evidently “starting slow” is not in the vocabulary of Steve McGarrett. Not that the kids mind. They love when Lou takes them out on the boat, and it’s mostly Danny’s own dislike of boating adventures that’s kept them as landlubber-y as they are. He’s very much afraid that’s not going to be the case in Hawaii—though when Steve takes his shirt off in the warm, lakeside sunshine, Danny really can’t find it in himself to mind very much.

Grace is already a pretty good sailor, and Danny can tell Steve’s impressed with her skills, and she’s impressed with his. He’ll admit he was a little nervous how the two of them would hit it off... he’s probably told her a little too much, but he was over-compensating because he’s worried about how she is with the move. 

Not that technically it’s his fault—at least he has that. It’s her mom who started it. Still, Danny feels easily guilty even when it’s not actually because of him, and he truly feels bad for uprooting Grace a second time in her life. He’s also a little worried because she hasn’t gotten mad about it yet. At least not to him. Maybe she yelled at her mom when Rachel broke the news to the kids. But Danny very much doubts it. 

The point is, having Steve show up has been comforting in more ways than one, and him getting to know the kids—rather, the kids getting to know and be comfortable with him—is definitely one of the bigger ones.

While Steve and Grace dance quizzically around each other’s sailing knowledge, Danny and Charlie get the food set up down below. They’d stopped at a small market near the boat launch, Lou’s favorite stop for gourmet grilling sausages and brats and things when they tailgate at the university’s football games. The market also has a remarkable section of prepared foods and a bakery case to tempt even the un-sweetest of teeth. Their haul today includes a lovely loaf of rustic bread, a selection of cheeses, some chicken salad with nuts and grapes, and two types of pasta salad—one especially tailored to little kid tastes, one more flavorful. There’s also a selection of fancy sodas, and Charlie can’t keep his hands off them, trying to decide which is likely to be his favorite. He’s even ignoring the cupcakes and fruit tarts in favor of the drinks, and Danny tries not to worry about Steve setting expectations in Charlie’s mind, of being the lax, spoiling figure Danny’s already pretty sure he’ll be.

Charlie, for his part, is less certain about Steve. He doesn’t really do strangers well, even at his age—though he’s substantially better at it than he was as a little kid. He’s not exactly hiding behind Danny’s legs, but he’s not as forward as his sister—who almost seems like she’s trying to prove herself to Steve. Danny’s not totally sure what that competitive spark is about, though he will admit she most likely gets it from him. His son, on the other hand, got Danny’s tendency to worry. In spades. He wishes he could have removed that from his genetic code before passing his genes on to another progeny. But he understands Charlie’s reticence. And he doesn’t push him.

So Danny leaves Charlie ensconced with one of the drinks—he _literally_ couldn’t wait any longer or I’ll explode, Danno!—and a book, and he starts to head up to check on the resident sailors. He has one foot on the first step when he hears Grace and Steve talking softly. Unable to help himself, he pauses on the stairs and listens.

“....I  _tried_  to be angry. At first. But honestly, I never really felt at home here. I mean, I don’t hate it, and it’s not like I prefer Jersey, not like Danno does. It’s where grandma and grandpa are, and I love visiting and all, but it’s not really home either, you know?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies softly, and Danny is surprised at how understanding he sounds. How much like he relates. “It’s their home, but not really yours, I get that. I never felt really at home anywhere after Hawaii. Not even in Alaska. Even though I was there for more than seven years.”

“Yeah, that’s how long we’ve been here... and, it’s okay, I guess. I do  _not_  love the winters. I agree with mom on that one. Winter here is just dumb.”

Steve laughs. “I’m not exactly crazy about cold and snow myself.”

“You’re glad to be going back? To Hawaii?”

“I am. But mostly... mostly I’m glad about who I’m going with.”

“Oh my god, you’re as bad as Danno.” Danny can hear the eye roll.

“Sorry, was that too sappy?” Steve’s trying not to be too amused, Danny can tell. 

“I’m just used to adults arguing. Yelling. Not being soft and squishy.”

“I’ll try and keep that in mind,” Steve chuckles.

“No, it’s okay. I’m... I’m happy for Danno. God, he deserves it. Mom at least had Stan for a while. Danno never... he never had someone after mom, not really. And it’s been hard on him. I know it has. I’m glad he found you.”

“I am too.”

Realizing he’s lingered too long, Danny clears his throat and emerges, asking how the sails and stuff and all those sail-boat-y things are. Grace and Steve look at each other, amused no doubt by his lack of sailing know-how, and they laugh, assuring him that everything is fine, how’s lunch coming?

They join Charlie downstairs to eat, and maybe it’s the food, maybe it’s the fresh air—he knows from his time in Alaska that fresh air makes food ( _and other things_ ) better, and it also seems to ease new meetings, because Charlie—and maybe Danny’s underestimated his son, or Steve, or both—but Charlie seems to be swiftly warming up to Steve, and Danny would possibly admit that it’s making his heart go soft.

After they eat, Steve lets Charlie play captain for a bit, and Danny and Grace get a chance to sit and talk.

“I like him,” she says softly, watching Steve show Charlie the navigation equipment. She looks at her dad, and grins. “And more importantly... he _clearly_ loves you.”

Danny’s pretty sure he blushes. She’s tried, over the years, to set him up with both men and women, and her awareness—not to mention forwardness—in the relationship department has always stunned Danny. Now’s no different. And he can’t resist asking.

“Oh yeah, monkey, how’s that?”

“Well...” she begins, as though explaining something painfully obvious. “First there’s the fact that he came at all. He could have just waited till we were all in Hawaii. But he chose to leave work—and I know he cares a lot about his work—to come, what, help you pack? And, of course, to meet us.” She knocks gently against Danny. “And he missed you. Kind of a lot, I think. He’s committed, is my point. And not just to you, but to all of it. All of  _us_. In, what, just a few weeks? That’s remarkable. Typically you’ve only progressed to a weekday lunch after a few weeks of dating someone.”

Danny laughs uncomfortably. But she’s right. Danny is, ordinarily, a very slow dater.

Grace decides she’ll take over at the helm so Steve can sit with Danny, and Danny, not for the first time, thanks his lucky stars for his amazing daughter.

“Charlie’s really warming up to you fast,” Danny mumbles into Steve as he gets a kiss on the cheek and an arm wrapped around him. “You knew that would happen out here, that’s why you borrowed the boat.

“Well, taking you out on the boat in Alaska helped  _you_  warm up to me,” Steve points out. “I figured if it worked with one Williams, it might work with the others....”

Danny realizes Steve has a point, and he laughs softly, and he lets himself be held by his boyfriend, as they watch Danny’s kids sail them across the brilliant summer sky.

Once they’re back on land, they’re met by Lou’s daughter Samantha, who’s already on campus for summer school. She and Grace are planning one last sleepover, and Danny has all his fingers crossed that she’s not intending to encourage Grace to add Northwestern to her prospective college list. His bank account hurts at the very idea.

They head to the local pub for burgers and a few rounds of darts. It’s one of their longtime favorite places for good food and a relaxed afternoon, and it’s as close to a real pub as Danny’s found in the states—even Rachel likes it. They make this amazing cream cheese ball appetizer and Danny’s hoping the chef will let Danny in on the secret now he’s leaving, but he’s not there so he’ll have to try again. 

“I don’t normally eat fried food,” Steve says as he bites into a second delicately battered ball of creamy goodness. “But these are amazing.” 

Danny groans in frustration. He’s tried more times than he can count to replicate them. Failed every time. Usually in a complete mess of a disaster.

“Maybe it’s just some Evanston magic, and we’re only meant to enjoy them here,” Grace says thoughtfully, patting Danny on the arm in commiseration.

Dessert makes up for it, though, because sticky toffee pudding is one dish Danny  _has_  mastered. He never would have made it through Rachel’s pregnancy with Grace if he hadn’t. And it turns out it’s a dessert Steve’s never had, and when he joins Charlie in proclaiming it The Best Dessert Ever, Danny finds he’s pleased for several reasons. 

With food out of the way, the girls challenge Steve and Danny to darts. Charlie keeps score on his dad’s phone, not that it’s really necessary, as it’s painfully clear who’s winning. 

“You would think,” Danny says to his boyfriend as they are roundly beaten for the third time. “That two people who routinely shoot at targets for a living would be better at darts.”

“Yeah, what are we missing?” Steve mutters as he grabs the darts for round four.

“Other than the target?” Samantha laughs, wrapping her arm around Grace, and the appraising look she gives Steve makes Danny realize she’s running recon for her dad. It’s the first time he thinks that he’ll miss Lou, and he hopes he does visit them in Hawaii. For more than just golf.

The pub’s starting to fill with a rowdier nighttime sort, so they head out to drop the girls at their favorite coffeehouse, a few streets away. It’s a bustling place, filled with students and townies alike, some studying with headphones in, others chatting animatedly. Soft yellow light spills out the long windowed front, highlighting the unicorn emblem that provides the cafe’s name. 

Danny looks anxiously at the street around them, but Grace put her hand on his arm, holds his eyes with hers til he focuses on her, then smiles. 

“It’s okay, dad, her apartment is literally upstairs, stop worrying so much.”

He’s not worried. His tummy just feels oddly unsettled, and maybe it’s because he realizes he’s going to miss rather a lot about Chicago. He tries very hard to tell himself it’s not because he knows Grace is only a few years away from having her own above-a-coffeehouse apartment.

The sky is growing dark—or rather that signature orange shade that foretells night in the city—when they bundle Charlie into the car for the drive home, and maybe it’s the fresh air, maybe it’s all the good food, but Charlie soon falls asleep, leaving Danny and Steve with a chance to talk.

“I heard you talking with Grace...” he begins, needing to confess that he listened secretly, but also curious as to how it had started— _who_ had started it.

Steve turns to look at Danny, and he smiles, almost as if he knew Danny’d been listening. “I know what it is like,” he says, somewhat wistfully. “To be uprooted at that age. Granted she’s got her whole family going with her—I was separated from my dad and my sister after my mom died. But I was also separated from my friends, and that was almost just as hard. I just needed to know how she was doing with the idea.”

“And?”

“She’s not going to hate you for it, if that’s what you’re worried about. She admits she’ll miss her friends, and I get the sense she’s thinking she might come back for college—”

Danny can’t help it, he flinches.

“—Yeah. She guessed you’re worried about that.” Steve chuckles softly. “But she doesn’t hate the idea of Hawaii. Or, more accurately, she doesn’t hate the idea of _wearing flip flops year round_ , was I think how she put it.”

Danny isn’t surprised by that. Grace has always hated shoes. Still, he is surprised at how much his teenage daughter opened up to this unfamiliar man... this stranger. But then Danny remembers that technically, that is part of Steve’s job—getting strangers to open up to him. Danny’s pretty sure Steve thinks he’s not very good at that part of the work, but Danny’s learned otherwise, first hand.

“I’m sorry you were sent away.... That must have been hard.”

Steve shrugs. “It was. But it led me to make my own family from friends, and I’ve always treasured that. My ohana, the people I work with, the people I serve with.... Lucy and Ralph are more than just my bosses. They’re family. I’d die for them just as I would my SEAL buddies. Just as I would for you... and now, the kids.”

“Well, let’s hope it never comes to that,” Danny replies, chills moving up his arms despite trying to shake off an odd sense of foreboding for the second time that day. And maybe Steve regrets his words, but he rests his hand on Danny’s leg, and it settles Danny, and they’re quiet—if thoughtful—the rest of the ride home.


	3. Chapter 3

Danny’s hackles are up before he’s even made it all the way down the stairs. Even before his mind has registered there is another voice whispering intently along with Steve’s hushed tones, his body knows there’s someone else in the house. He very nearly goes for his gun, but then he recognizes the voice.

“Heey, Roberto. What brings you to Chicago?” But as soon as Danny sees Berto’s face, he knows. Something is very wrong. Then Steve turns around, and Danny nearly gasps.

“Lucy’s been taken.”

The second part of that sentence is clearly  _And it’s all my fault_ , but the words remain unspoken.

Roberto fills Danny in on the important bits while Steve packs what he needs. There’s evidently a new faction of something or other, a young hotshot making a power play and not being smart about it. He doesn’t say that it was because of Steve’s absence, but he doesn’t deny it either. Regardless, Ralph’s been shot and Lucy taken, and Roberto needs Steve to help get her back.

“Is Ralph okay?”

“He’ll be fine, Chef’s a good surgeon. He might have a limp, but knowing Ralph, he’ll enjoy that. It’ll sure push up his retirement though.... And he's no use in the field right now, which is why I need Steve with me to get Lucy back. I’m sorry to take him from you.”

“Oh, I’m coming with you,” Danny corrects. Which of course is when Steve walks back into the room.

“ _Danny_ ,” Steve’s voice is tense with warning. “You do not have to do that. This is my fault, not yours.”

“I don’t care who’s fault it is, jackass. Lucy’s in trouble, you’re both going.” He looks from the one to the other, hoping they understand he’s not completely incapable. “I can help. I’m coming with you.”

“Think about this, please. Think about the kids. Think about Rachel.”

“I am. But I’m also thinking about  _you_.”

Steve acquiesces, and when Danny turns back around, he sees Lou there, having evidently let himself in with the key he’s had for years. Lou gives Danny his patented  _I know you’re about to do something dumb_ face. The one he typically reserves for club choice on the golf green, drink choice at the bar, or sandwich choice at their favorite deli.

“Your boy here knew you were gonna pick the dumb route. I got Charlie, you go.”

Danny looks at Steve, who just shrugs and hands him a bag—his own bag, and judging from the weight, it’s packed with op-appropriate clothes, his tac gear, and his gun. How Steve knew where those things were, Danny doesn’t want to think about. 

He nods grimly at Lou, grabs his arm in thanks, and follows Roberto and Steve out the door.

They drive for a while, and Danny tries to follow where they’re headed, but the best he can figure is somewhere vaguely north. Trees thicken, then thin, lights grow less frequent, and eventually they pull off onto a long dirt road to what Danny guesses is likely to be an airstrip. When they finally stop, sure enough, there’s a small plane waiting. Next to it stands a tall, striking, older man, his posture a softer version of parade rest.  _Old habits_... Danny thinks. Retired military is an easy guess.

He greets Steve with a hug that is cursory and befitting the situation, but also very clearly fond. He hesitates over Roberto, a look of recognition, swiftly-disguised is evident to Danny, but presumably missed by Steve, who has turned to face Danny. 

“Joe trained me,” is all he says.

“Nice to finally meet you,” Joe says, his handshake warm and firm, his gaze appraising. “Steve’s told me a lot about you.” He grins when Danny must look surprised by that. “It’s okay, we’ll have a long flight to talk. Better get in.”

Steve takes the pilot’s seat and Roberto climbs in next to him as co-pilot, leaving Joe and Danny in the back, which is surprisingly comfortable considering the outside of the plane looks, in the dark at least, as though it might make it up in the air but there’s a very real possibility that it won’t land.

“She’s sturdier than she looks,” Joe replies, gauging Danny’s reaction correctly. “Here, better make yourself comfortable.” And he hands Danny a blanket and pillow that are definitely not military issue.

Once they get up in the air and Joe settles in at Danny’s side, some things click into place. “You work up at the SEAL training facility,” Danny says, feeling a bit dumb for not having made the connection before.

“That’s right,” Joe grins, and Danny gets the odd feeling Joe’s proud of him for the deduction. “I was hoping to retire when Steve here came onboard. Guess someone had other ideas....”

“You’ve met Lucy, then,” Danny surmises.

“Only once. Not that she’s exactly easy to forget.”

They talk for a while in general terms, much like Lucy and Steve are expert in, and Danny has the sense he’s being lulled into feeling he knows more than he does. Joe gives him a rundown of what they’re likely to encounter on the ground, and it’s maybe a bit more than Danny’s used to, but he’s worked some of Chicago’s roughest bits, and honestly, he’s not so certain some of them aren’t worse. Eventually Joe suggests Danny try to sleep for a bit, and he himself drifts quickly off. Danny manages to follow.

He’s not sure how long the trip ultimately is, as it’s still dark when they arrive, but they’ve probably been flying away from the sun anyway. They land somewhere mountainous, but near a sizable city, and lots of water, divided into clumps amongst treed hills. It’s surreal and ominous in the moonlight, and Danny feels shivers down his arms. Tumbled down buildings and flickering neon is more his comfort zone. Rats the size of cats he’s okay with, but these woods look like they could hide much larger and much more dangerous—though probably _healthier_ —creatures.

There’s a shed at the edge of the makeshift landing strip, and Joe comes out of it with a Jeep of a vaguely retired-military sort. They pile inside, and Danny almost asks how long the trip will be when Steve’s at his side telling him.

“Probably about twenty minutes by car, then we’re going in on foot. You stay close to Joe, okay?” And Danny’s about to object, but Steve kisses him, and adds “ _Please_ ,” in such a pleading tone, Danny can only nod. 

They go the rest of the way in silence, everyone checking over their gear as Roberto drives. When they leave the vehicle, it’s Joe who gives an overview. He’s been here before—wherever here is—and he’s laid out the place they’re probably holding Lucy.

“Since this is most likely a trap, and Steve’s the real target, Roberto and I will take point. Danny, you stay back with Steve and make sure he doesn’t do something stupid.”

Danny grins as Steve groans.

“Joe’s right,” Berto insists. “Let us take out the guards, you guys come in behind and get Lucy. We’ll meet back here after. Whatever happens, just get Lucy out.” He hands a second gun to Danny. “Put that in your vest. Once Lucy’s free, she’ll be more use than Steve.” And he winks.

“You all are really great for a person’s self-esteem,” Steve grumbles, but he nods to Roberto, who leads them off toward the target.

Just as it feels to Danny like they’ve been walking forever, Steve pulls on him to hold him back. Joe rushes forward, and Danny hears two quick shots and a thud, followed by three shots and two more thuds. Roberto then surges forward, and the perimeter lights up and somewhere a dog barks. There’s a whistle, and Steve tugs on Danny to go forward.

He falls into it as easily as though he’s trained with Steve for this. Sure, it’s a little different dodging trees and traveling over dirt rather than burnt out cars and trash, but it’s the same concept, and what’s more, he can read Steve’s moves before he makes them. Danny’s had partners he’s worked seamlessly with before. Back in Jersey, before 9-11, it was like that with Grace. And he and Lou have developed a great rapport in the field. But this is some crazy level of different. Probably it’s the sex. They just know each others’ bodies, know their gestures, their moves. And this is some extension of that. Danny reads Steve without even trying, follows his intent, and before he knows it, they’ve got Lucy in their sights. Berto’s just ahead of them, knocks out the last two guards, then goes off presumably to find where Joe’s got himself to, while Danny and Steve get Lucy free. Danny hands her the gun while Steve checks her over as she insists she’s fine—but how’s her husband? Danny assures her Ralph is okay, and she kisses Danny on the cheek.

“You’re looking well,” she grins, her signature bright lipstick still stunningly perfect, and Danny blushes because he knows she means  _well-fucked_.

“I’ve missed you too,” he replies, but his tone is warm as well as relieved, and they follow Steve back out the way they came.

When they get to the rendezvous point, neither Joe nor Roberto is there, and Steve turns around as if to head back, but Danny grabs onto him. 

“Remember what Joe said,” he hisses. It’s not escaped Danny’s notice that this was far too easy. And yeah, okay, he was going in with two ex-Navy SEALs and a man who is possibly even more skilled, but it still felt too easy.

Lucy catches something of the exchange, because she puts a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “He’s right. It was you they wanted. They didn’t expect me, didn’t really know what to do once they had me. If anyone goes back in it’s me and Danny. But I’d rather not leave you.” She turns to Danny. “Did you say Joe? Joe White? I should have known you’d call him, Steve.” She pauses, thoughtful expression on her face. “I wonder if he’s interested in retiring to Alaska. I hear he likes to fish.”

As though summoned by his name, Joe appears, and he’s bleeding, but it doesn’t look too bad, and Roberto’s behind him, grumbling could they have social hour later please, and Lucy laughs and blows him a kiss.

Before Danny knows it, they’re back on the plane, and Lucy’s bandaging Joe up expertly, insisting it’s just a scratch, but kissing him on the cheek anyway, and Joe’s watching Lucy as though she hung the moon.

Steve leaves Berto in the front and joins the others in the back, to check on Lucy—and, at a guess, to be near Danny. He sits on the floor at Danny’s feet, and presses gently but firmly back against Danny’s legs. Danny lets his hands rest on Steve’s shoulders. He catches Joe watching them, his smile warm, his gaze approving. It feels to Danny as though if there’d been any doubt in Joe’s mind that Steve had made the right choice, Danny’s somehow soothed that worry. Joe claps Danny on the shoulder as he gets up, and steps over Steve.

“I’ll leave you kids to it, I’m gonna take over up front.” And he joins Roberto in the cockpit.

Lucy stretches out on the vacated seat, cricking and groaning a bit as she does. “We can figure it all out later,” she sighs on a yawn, pulling one of the pillows Danny’d been using before beneath her head, her dark hair puffing up as she fluffs it.

Steve leans further back against Danny, twisting to look awkwardly up at him, and smiling. “Thank you,” he whispers, and settling in between Danny’s legs as he speeds them slightly to make more space for Steve, he rests his head on Danny’s knee, and falls swiftly asleep.

It takes, it seems to Danny, a lot longer coming back than it did going. Which might be partly because he doesn’t fall asleep this time. His mind is rushing a little, processing what he’s done, the choice he’d made—well, not  _made_ , there hadn’t been any question he’d go too. But that says a lot. That he’d been willing to do that, that he’d not even  _questioned_  that he was willing to do it.... He’s still not really sure how much of Steve’s life in Alaska was things like what he just participated in, and how much was more like what he saw in Alaska—mostly tense meetings and running coms. And he wants to think that it matters, which it was.

The thing of it is, he’s not sure that it does. 

It’s not like Danny doesn’t risk his life every day as it is. And frankly, he felt safer with Steve at his side and Lucy at his back than he’s felt walking down a city street alone. And he half thinks it means he’s crazy. But it seems to him that if Lucy needed him again, he’d say yes in a heartbeat. And probably that tells him a lot about himself that he’s never quite admitted.

Not that he doesn’t want his restaurant. He’s wanted that his whole life, and he’d given up that dream once, not realizing how much it did mean to him. Now he’s been offered it again, he’s not letting it go easily. But with Lucy in Hawaii, once Ralph retires.... Well, maybe Danny won’t mind if it means a little adventure now and then.

They’re flying into the sun, so it’s hardly surprising that it’s considerably into the next day by the time they land. They get back in the car Roberto’d driven them to the landing strip in, and there’s a brief conversation about needing to check chatter, so Joe takes them to what’s evidently his place, which seems oddly secluded for being as close to the endlessly sprawling city as it is.

Joe sends Steve and Danny to the kitchen to make coffee and toast while the others confab in Joe’s surprisingly high tech study. By the time they reemerge, he and Steve have made two pots of coffee (having consumed most of the first one themselves), and are buttering up some toast.

They all stand around the small kitchen island eating toast and drinking black coffee. Everyone but Joe is leaning on the counter for support—he may be the oldest of all of them, but he’s also the most in his element, and it seems to Danny that for someone who’s supposedly been training new recruits, he looks surprisingly Active Duty himself.

“Roberto was right about Marcus taking over Lin’s territory,” Joe explains to Steve, and Danny thinks Steve doesn’t look as surprised as he should that Joe seems to know as much about this as he does. “This will be a setback for him, but he’ll recover. Probably pretty fast. You’ll need to come up with a plan....” There’s something in his tone, Danny thinks. A hint. If he knew Joe a little better, he’d probably be able to read it. He thinks Lucy does read it, judging from her smile.

“We’ll talk about that later,” Lucy says to Joe, turning to Steve and Danny with her own update. “Chef says Ralph is going to be just fine... and Ralph says I should say _hi_ to my old stomping grounds while I’m here. I hate to break into your special time,” she winks at Danny, clearly not sorry at all. “But, care to show a girl the city?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you need a music break after that, may I suggest Dave Brubeck’s stupendous classic, “Take Five." It actually goes, I think, quite well with the chapter, but I didn't want to distract from the story by mentioning it first....


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay.... I seem to have developed a tendency to be late posting last chapters because I get distracted writing another story.... oops. 
> 
> Anyhow.... I know most of you are waiting for Hawaii. Don't worry, it'll happen. Thank you for indulging me with this layover in Chicago. :-)

After they finish the toast, Danny checks in with Lou, who’s about to gather all four of the kids for Will’s summer baseball league game at the park—and summer, baseball, and lakeside park has Lucy looking giddy and excited, so they decide to clean up and head out to join them. Joe has limited facilities, so Steve and Danny go back to Danny’s with Lucy, while Roberto and Joe say they’ll catch them up at the park.

While Danny showers and changes, Lucy refreshes herself as best she can, then they head to the kitchen to pack some drinks and snacks while Steve does the same.

“He missed you, you know,” Lucy says, leaning against Danny’s shoulder, falling so easily back into the cozy intimacy they’d shared at the Lodge, Danny feels almost as though he’s there again. “Thank you,” she whispers, slipping her hand into his for a soft squeeze. “I know you risked a lot to come get me, and you absolutely didn’t have to.”

He holds onto her fingers before she can pull away, and meets her eyes levelly. “Yeah, I did. And not just for Steve.  _For you_.”

She kisses him on the cheek, and Danny’s not surprised at all that she’s come through her ordeal not just unscathed, but miraculously still smelling like something warm and tropical. Maybe that’s how she does it, he thinks. Gets everyone in her life thinking they want to live in paradise. Her open, easy, comforting demeanor. Her fragrance. Her voice. Suddenly he remembers that night at the club, wondering if Lucy sang.

“Do you like jazz?” He asks, as she lets his hand go to put some grapes into little bags.

She turns that dazzling smile on him, and he knows he’s right. She belongs on a stage. Or at the side of a piano. He wonders if there’s room at the restaurant for a piano.

“ _Love it_ ,” she replies in a surprised gasp, her voice a-thrill as though Danny’s worked out a secret about her no one’s ever guessed.

Steve reemerges then, damp and smelling like Danny’s soap, and that’s not distracting at all. Neither is the fact that he wraps his arm around Danny possessively. “Should we take her to that club from the other night, buddy? I bet she’d love it.”

“Yes, please,” Lucy replies. “But you absolutely have to take me for a decent steak first.”

“ _Of course_ ,” Danny agrees, as he closes the cooler and heads them all for the door, feeling very glad she’s going to be part of his life after all.

The baseball outing is a success. It’s hotter than normal, but after the night they had, Danny’s sure no one minds. There’s a breeze off the lake, and they sit in the shade of wind-sculpted trees and drink water and eat pretzels and grapes, and frankly Danny can’t remember a nicer day at a ballgame. Will’s team wins, and he hits a homerun, and Charlie asks if they have baseball in Hawaii. Steve starts to say  _what about football_ , but Danny steps on his foot, and he says “Yeah, of course they do, buddy.”

They wind up at Danny’s after, and maybe it’s a kind of impromptu farewell party, maybe it’s just that it’s baseball, and it’s Chicago, so they simply  _have_  to have hot dogs. The kids jump on the trampoline, and Lou and Roberto chat about Lou’s friend Tom, back at the Lodge, while Danny can’t decide if it looks more like Lucy’s claimed Joe, or Joe’s offering himself. Probably it’s a little bit of both, and Steve whispers to Danny that it’s possible Lucy’s finally met her match in his old commander. 

They’re standing at the grill, drinking beers and turning hot dogs, and they watch while Joe and Lucy are joined by Roberto and Lou. The conversation drifts over, the breeze having died down as the sun’s gotten lower in the summer sky.

“I wouldn’t mind a few years fishing in Alaska.” 

Joe’s voice has taken on that slightly amused tone Danny’s already familiar with—it seems to him you’d never be entirely sure if Joe’s kidding you or being serious. But Danny’s pretty sure this time he’s serious. He’s also fairly certain there’s another sentiment that remains unexpressed.... One that has something to do with fishing in Hawaii. And there’s something else, Danny realizes, as he remembers the way Joe’d looked at Roberto when they first met and it had been clear to Danny that Joe recognized him, if Roberto hadn’t seemed to remember Joe.

It finally clicks for Roberto, maybe something in Joe’s words or his tone, maybe something in his posture as he leans against the deck railing sipping his beer. But it’s as though a light bulb goes off over Berto’s head. 

“I  _thought_  I recognized you. Bogotá, 2003.”

Joe smiles that slightly crooked grin. Tilts his head and tips his beer in congratulations, then his eyebrows go up, clearly challenging his new friend to remember more.

Berto is too quick for that, though. “And Panama, 1999.”

Joe nods. “So, what do you think. Got a spot for an old man who wants to catch some salmon?” 

And probably it’s a done deal already, if unspoken, between Lucy and Joe. But it’s Roberto who is going to be running the Alaska operation once Ralph retires, so it’d be important to Lucy that Roberto feel  _he_  chose Steve’s replacement. Which it seems he already has. And clearly Bogotá in 2003 and Panama in 1999 are far more meaningful to the two of them than to any of the others. Meaningful enough for an alliance, even if it’s a temporary one. 

“Just until you can find someone new,” Joe insists, as though otherwise Roberto would be in danger of growing too comfortable having him around.

Lucy is watching the two of them proudly, as if they’ve created this alliance on their own, and maybe it really was kismet, but Danny already knows that with Lucy, you can never truly be sure. When he catches her eyeing Lou, he pulls his old friend possessively away, thinking he’d better warn Lou to be wary of golf tournament offers that seem too good to be true. But then, Lou is in regular contact with Tom at the Lodge, so probably he’s already been warned about Lucy and her powers of recruitment.

Grace leads the newcomers in proper Chicago-style hot-dog-adornment, while Charlie offers his own take on a slightly simpler dog for those less adventurous souls (the key being to pre-mix the ketchup, mustard, and relish together, before applying far too much of the resulting sauce to the bun, and only after that to add the hot dog). 

They, all of them, eat too many—sitting out on the deck under the orange, glowing sky—and Danny tries not to think that this is his last cook-out here. He also tries not to think too much about Hawaii, but conversation makes it difficult.

“It’s so weird to not see stars,” Lucy muses, looking up.

“There are stars,” Charlie pipes up, pointing north to a patch of almost-black sky where, sure enough, a handful of stars are just visible.

“In Alaska, Charlie,” she says warmly. “There are hundreds more.  _Thousands_.”

“In Hawaii, too,” Steve adds.

“Then I can’t wait!” Charlie says, and Grace seems to be looking forward to it as well, which eases Danny’s mind considerably. 

Lou and his kids head home not long after, and Joe and Roberto are bound for Joe’s for the night, then to pack and head for the Lodge. Danny leaves them with Steve and Lucy to go over logistics, while he gets the kids upstairs and Charlie ready for bed. He’s fairly sure he’ll be seeing Roberto and Joe again before too long, and he admits to himself he’s surprisingly glad. 

It takes a while to get Charlie settled, and he must seem more impatient than usual, because Grace offers to take over story duty, and Danny knows she doesn’t love that, so he’s grateful. Kissing them both, he heads, eagerly, back downstairs.

Lucy and Steve have moved back outside, and are sitting on the glider at the corner of the house. It looks like she’s trying to keep some space between them, almost as if she’s weaning herself from Steve. But he’s clearly not having that, and as she shifts away, he leans in. Perhaps he’s making a statement by it—Danny thinks that probably he is. They’re eating popcorn, that horrible bright orange stuff that’s supposed to taste like cheese but doesn’t, and they’re both enjoying it. Or enjoying the ritual of it. Danny thinks it’s not hard to imagine there’s a story there.

He brings the bottle of gin with him, and glasses of ice, and they all sit together on the glider, eating popcorn and drinking gin, and not really talking, just enjoying being together, thinking about—at least Danny is—how home is more about  _people_  than  _place_. But there’s this thread underneath it, of looking forward... and if any of them are imagining the sound of waves hitting the beach, well.... It’s not as if place doesn’t matter at all.

And speaking of place mattering, Chicago really kind of does, a lot more than he’d realized, and Danny hates to admit it, but he is going to miss this town, and he’s very much looking forward to their night out.

They get Lucy settled in the guest room downstairs, and she smiles when Danny offers her a nightgown left by some ex or another at some point, then she kisses them both goodnight on the cheek, and for one really long moment, Danny thinks Steve is contemplating sleeping on the floor outside her door, but she shoos him away.

“You need your sleep, sugar, if you’re gonna keep up with me tomorrow night....” And it’s part threat, part promise, and it soothes Steve at least a little, but Danny’s pretty sure he knows how to distract him the rest of the way.

Which he totally does.

 

In the morning, Danny wakes up to the smell of something cinnamon and chocolate and he glances over at Steve, who’s evidently woken up at the same time, and for the same reason.

“Oooh, Lucy’s baking,” he grins as he sits up.

Sure enough, Lucy is not only baking, she’s made coffee, and something that must be hot cocoa but looks extra fussy, and both of Danny’s kids are sitting at the kitchen table, still in their PJs, whipped cream moustaches on their lips, laughing with Lucy like she’s their favorite aunt.

Steve pours them coffee, and Danny peeks in the oven to see what he can only assume are chocolate cinnamon rolls, and the smell is beyond anything he thinks his kitchen has ever known, and that’s saying something.

“Do you have a culinary degree as well?” He asks, when she scolds him for letting the heat out of the oven.

“Just a hobby. But I’ve a good teacher in Chef.”

“That’s not really someone’s name,” Charlie accuses her.

She grins. “You know, you’re right. Chef doesn’t like his name, so when he became a chef, he decided he liked that better.”

“That’s silly.”

“Yeah, it is, but so is he, so it fits.”

Danny struggles with the notion of Chef being silly, as he’s probably the most serious of the entire Alaska bunch, not to mention evidently a trained surgeon as well. And probably a nuclear physicist. Not for the first time, Danny feels slightly underdressed in the other-skills department, but when Lucy suggests he make some eggs to go with the cinnamon rolls, he finds his feet a little. Eggs are generally understood to be an indication of a cook’s skill, and Danny, well... eggs used to be his nemesis, but he’s long since conquered that bugaboo, and he’s on confident footing in the Perfect Scrambled Eggs department.

After they eat, the kids are off to their mom’s for the week, and Charlie protests—which is something he never does, and Danny might be a little bit thrilled by that. Just a little. Lucy has a coffee date planned with an old college friend back on campus, and Steve has promised to help Danny pack.

They don’t really get a whole lot of packing done, to be honest. Mostly because Danny’s far more interested in Steve’s presence in his house than he is in which of his mismatched dishes most deserve the honor of being sent to the island. He picks his favorite mug—the one Grace got him when she was six, that says  _Dad_  and has a rainbow on it. Steve grins in approval and says they’ll love how many rainbows there are on Oahu, as though it’s some kind of measurable commodity, and not a fleeting phenomenon dependent very much on perspective. Danny grabs his old Seton Hall shot glass, and then he looks at the rest of the dishes and shrugs.

“You have dishes, right?”

“Yeah, Danny. I have dishes. And sheets and towels and just about everything else we could need. Bring your clothes, and maybe put the rest in storage somewhere Lou can get into it if you decide you can’t live without something.” 

Steve moves closer, nuzzling into Danny’s neck as if it’s part of helping to pack. Danny’s not altogether certain it’s not. 

“We can always come back and move more later if we need to. Maybe just focus on the important stuff for now....” 

It’s entirely possible that Steve doesn’t actually mean  _crazy hot sex_ , but it’s how Danny takes it.

And takes it some more.

They’ve arranged to meet up with Lucy at Lou’s and take the “L” into the city, and once again, Danny’s impressed with how well Steve cleans up. But that’s nothing compared to how Lucy cleans up. Either she went shopping or her friend is a costume designer and makeup artist, because Lucy ordinarily outshines everyone else in the room, in a simple tropical sundress and her signature perfect coat of bright lipstick, but Danny actually staggers back when she greets them at Lou’s door.

Her normally natural hair has been smoothed into sleek and very retro waves, and her usual hot pink or orange lips have been traded for a deep plum shade that’s temptingly luscious. She’s somehow poured a shimmering dark purple cocktail dress over her body like it grew there, and Danny knew she was a woman, but  _those curves_.

“ _Damn_.”

Steve elbows him, and not very gently. “Hey. Respect the lady, please.”

“Ohhh, that’s respect,” Lucy coos as she kisses them both on the cheek. She even smells different. It’s like she’s been transformed into an entirely different person, and Danny thinks he was right about this being a cover she’s actually used. “Thank you, dear. You look lovely as well.”

“You’ve done this before,” he accuses.

“Which part?” She asks, amused. “Dress up? Or do Chicago right?” And her eyes are twinkling, knowing there’s a third option, but she’s not going to admit it.

Danny stammers.

“That’s a yes to all three,” Steve whispers, pulling his boyfriend closer—again, not very gently. Danny starts to protest, but then Lou appears, and he’s nothing if not a match for Lucy, in a vintage style burgundy three-piece suit and matching hat. Lou does hats superbly well, and it’s possible Danny’s a little envious of that. Certainly he’s never seen him look so dapper. It’s as though he was dressed by the costume department of a movie filming at a jazz club.

“She got you, too,” Danny exclaims, admiring Lou as he slowly spins, showing off his attire. Danny feels more than a little underdressed in his dark slacks and starched white shirt.

But it’s like Steve reads the energy from his body and his hand smoothes down Danny’s back and lands solidly on his ass, and okay, it helps. “You look magnificent as you are.” And Steve kisses him on the ear.

Needless to say, Danny’s not at all surprised when instead of the “L” they take a hired car—which just happens to be a replica of an old Packard. It’s like being in a movie, he thinks. And he remembers how he’d felt that way in Alaska when he first met Lucy.

It’s not just the transportation that’s been switched out, it’s evidently the venue as well, and they pull up to a place Danny’s heard of but not been to. It’s newer, but newer in the  _feels more authentically classic than many of the usual traditional spots_  sort of way. It’s staffed by a painfully hip, youthful crowd, and it doesn’t take Danny long to realize Lucy knows most, if not all of them. It takes him slightly longer to clue in as to  _why_  she does, and once he does, he wonders if there’s already waitstaff waiting for him in Hawaii.... Waitstaff who clearly are so much more than just waitstaff.

Danny manages to order his drink—a dirty martini—with, he hopes, some semblance of elegance. From the way Steve’s watching him, he has a feeling Steve at least thinks so. But Danny’s having a hard time keeping his eyes off Lou and Lucy, who clearly were made for this.

By the time they’re on their second round of drinks, and have ordered their steaks, the band leader has shown up, and Danny  _wants_  to be surprised that he recognizes Lucy (and clearly adores her) but he can’t quite manage it. Billy, as he introduces himself to the table, is more than a match for Lou in his suit and hat, and Lucy in her sparkling dress, and if the three of them suddenly started singing a show tune, Danny would in all probability not blink.

Which is bullshit, because after they eat their fantastic, utterly perfect steaks, and the band ends a rousingly performed version of “Cantaloupe Island” by Chicago’s own Herbie Hancock, Billy gestures for Lucy, and she gets up and heads for the microphone—one of those classic-looking ones—and Danny  _does_  blink. Steve whistles and Lou hoots and lifts his hat, but Danny just stares with his mouth open. He closes it swiftly though, as he almost immediately recognizes the tune.

“ _Anyone can whistle, that's what they say—easy. Anyone can whistle, any old day—easy. It's all so simple. Relax, let go, let fly. So someone tell me, why can't I?_ ”

It’s a song Danny’s always loved, from his own musical theatre geek days back in high school (well before it was  _cool_ , thank you). And he fell in love with the jazzed up version ages ago. But he’s never heard it quite like this. And he realizes, that’s because it’s perfectly Lucy’s song. And probably Steve’s as well.

“ _I can dance a tango, I can read Greek—easy. I can slay a dragon, any old week—easy. What's hard is simple. What's natural come hard. Maybe you could show me how to let go, lower my guard, learn to be free. Maybe if you whistle, whistle for me_.”

And maybe he’s wondered, quietly, in the back of his mind, why these extraordinary people have latched on to him. He’s just an ordinary cop, nothing exceptional, not a super-spy, international crime buster, James Bond-alike covert ops specialist.... But slowly, he thinks he gets it. And he  _does_  get it, he gets  _them._  And maybe that’s what Joe’s assessment of him felt like. Acknowledging that connection, but appreciating the difference—Danny is “in” it enough to grasp enough and be supportive, capable, useful... and  _out_  of it enough to be grounding. 

He remembers feeling that Lucy used him exactly for that, for grounding herself, during one highly memorable dinner in Alaska—while she worked her magic before Ralph and the others. He’d not really understood it as more than that, but he does now. It’s like he’s a converter. Able to handle their amped up current, their superhuman lifestyle, their borderline unbelievable abilities and proclivities. He’s not  _of_  their world. He’d never aim to be. But he doesn’t really belong in the normal world either. Like Grace had said about Chicago, it’s not home, it never was. He’s never been fully comfortable in civilian life—that’s why he became a cop. He’s not so totally plugged in to the normal grid as to be unable to adapt to Lucy’s vibe, Steve’s energy... all of their brighter lights. 

His value isn’t in matching them at their game. It’s in bringing it down to a grounded field. 

Which is what Steve had been longing for, Danny had understood that much, at least on some level. But now he sees it’s what Lucy’s after as well. Especially with Ralph being pushed into retirement because of his injury. And she’s clearly decided Danny’s going to help her manage the transition. If that means painfully cool waiters and bartenders working at his restaurant, and especially if it means the occasional adventure.... Well. 

Maybe her next song choice is perfectly appropriate, and the best truly is  _yet to come_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I want to focus on season nine stuff for a bit, and probably some [The Best Medicine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5560741/chapters/12825547) & [By Your Side](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5374970/chapters/12413861) as well.... But I promise to come back to both this AU for part four, and [the Jersey story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16177616/chapters/37800737) for part three, soon. <3


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